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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26471428">You Need Not Fear</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Hellhound Universe (Ghost Hunt) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ghost Hunt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Drabble, Flashbacks, How Do I Tag, One Shot, Psychological Trauma, Scars, Short, Short One Shot, crossposted, personal headcannon, super short for me, under 1000 words</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:08:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>732</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26471428</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>That night had changed John. Whether or not it had been for the better, he would never be sure.</p><p>(Oneshot, or maybe a drabble. It's pretty short.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Hellhound Universe (Ghost Hunt) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924411</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You Need Not Fear</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>You need not fear the terrors of night, nor of the arrow that flies by day-Psalms 91:5</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Gasping, John slammed into the wall. He held a hand over his mouth, trying to hide his desperate gasps for air. The smell of brimstone was overwhelming, washing the halls with the scent of burning sulfur. A black smoke coated the floor, and he closed his eyes, trying to keep his breathing under control. It was right behind him. His hand and arm where sliced open, blood coating his sleeve. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They had lied to him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It wasn't a simple possession of a doll. It was far, far worse than a simple doll. It wasn't even a possession. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A deep growl shook the corridors, and John's eyes snapped open. It was here. He pulled out his flask full of holy water. Only a fourth was left, he had been using it profusely all day. Blood dripped from his arm as he clutched it close to his chest, and he clumsily opened the flask with his teeth. He backed slowly up, edging along the wall and going through an open door, hiding next to the door frame. A snarl came from farther down the hall as the creature stalked forward. He struggled to stay silent as the noise of its heavy paw steps on the wood slowly grew louder. It stopped right outside of the door, snarling deeply. Johns hands started to shake as he struggled to keep himself from panicking. He started praying silently, lips moving without words escaping them as he prayed to the God he had devoted his life to.</em>
</p><p><em> Suddenly, it let loose a howl. The howl warped, and terror coursed through Johns very being. It turned the corner, and it lunged at him- </em>He shot up out of bed, screaming. <em>Beginning to look around in fear and panic, John started to struggle to breath, fear coursing through him.</em> The room was so similar to the room that it had happened. But he was delusional, his nightmare was warping his surroundings.</p><p>He wasn't in a lounging room, he was in a bedroom. Gasping for air, time blurred for a minute. He hugged his knees, sobbing. Tears stained his face, and he sniffled as he tried to collect himself. He was struggling to breath, vision blurred by his tears. One of his hands reached up, tracing the three scars that clawed his face. He hiccupped a few times, and he fell to his side, covering his face.</p><p>The scars burned, like they did for 6 days every three months. They scalded his skin, taking on a reddish tint. His phone started to vibrate, his alarm. He ignored it, sitting up while sniffling to stumble into the bathroom. Snatching up his phone on his way to the bathroom, he switched it off while trying to wipe the tears off his face without scalding his scars with the salt. He dumped the phone next to the sink, looking into the mirror.</p><p>He was pitiful. Tear stained face, red eyes, and the scars where visibly irritated. Sighing, he walked over to the shower, cranking it on. The hot water was soothing, distracting him from the pain from his scars on his face. All the same, he could see the scars on his body. He could name how he got each and every one of them. Each had a history, and he didn't like to linger on any of them but the one on his ankle. He vividly remembers being treated by his aunt. It had been the last time he saw her alive.</p><p>Hopping out of the shower, he snatched the towel up and dried his hair. He wasn't wearing his beanie on wet hair. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he started to brush his teeth. Halfway done, his phone started ringing. Answering, he said through the toothbrush "You're speaking to John Brown." On the other end, Mai giggled<em> 'No reason to be so formal John-Are you brushing your teeth?'</em> "Yeah, I just got out of the shower." <em>'Oh, I can call back-'</em> John shook his head, spitting out the toothpaste "No no, go ahead." He washed out his mouth while Mai explained that they had a case.</p><p>A mansion, mysterious hauntings, the usual. John agreed to come. He knew this was how life went, just moving along without regard to the souls that roamed the planet. It would come to an end one day, but he'd enjoy it until that end came.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>John does not get enough character development/acknowledgment in my opinion. What made him so caring? Why did he move to Japan? How did he become a priest so young? Why do his eyes look sad?</p><p>So many questions, so little answers…</p><p>The focus of this drabble (?) is to show a personal headcannon I have and help root out my personal writing of character trauma. Also, I know this is extremely short, I wrote this a few months ago and decided to post it on here. The italics getting mixed up with the normal letters here are to try and help the reader understand the merging of real life and his dreams.</p><p>To better explain the headcannon, it's that John was attacked by a hellhound at some point in his life. The time doesn't really matter, depending on the AU/fanfiction I'm writing. In this case, it was one of his first exorcisms, and it went horribly wrong. I may base a series on this oneshot, this is sorta the base for everything, I'll probably mess around with stuff a little bit to make it a good book, but the first chapter may or may not be somewhat similar to this.</p><p>However it is very unlikely it'll become a book, but the Hellhound Universe itself may be expanded.</p><p>I hope you enjoyed it, please tell me what you thought and what I can improve on, I really enjoy feedback. I would not be writing today if I hadn't gotten criticism early on.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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